


Fitted Fame

by CruelBeauty



Series: Tailored Temptations [1]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Actor!Crowley, Alternate Universe - Actors, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe- Costume Designer, Costume Designer!Aziraphale, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Smut, Theatre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 22:31:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20749826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CruelBeauty/pseuds/CruelBeauty
Summary: Aziraphale in all of his days as a costume designer never faced temptation quite as strong as working with Anthony J Crowley.Aziraphale actually prided himself on his ability to not gawk over the various celebrities that stand in his office mostly naked as he ensures the proper fit of their garments. He has had the biggest names in Hollywood in his office. He has measured the inseam of countless beautiful people. And it has never affected him the way Crowley does.





	Fitted Fame

Aziraphale in all of his days as a costume designer never faced temptation quite as strong as working with Anthony J Crowley. 

Aziraphale actually prided himself on his ability to not gawk over the various celebrities that stand in his office mostly naked as he ensures the proper fit of their garments. He has had the biggest names in Hollywood in his office. He has measured the inseam of countless beautiful people. And it has never affected him the way Crowley does. 

Crowley is one of the biggest male stars in Hollywood He plays all types of characters, though Aziraphale would privately admit his favorite is when Crowley plays a bad boy role. It seems to flow so well for him. 

Aziraphale thinks it’s because of his naturally lanky and sharp body. Hollywood would say it’s because, to put it politely, Crowley is not a very nice man. 

Aziraphale would disagree with this claim.

Of all the posh and uptight people Aziraphale has worked with Crowley has been the kindest, and funniest he has ever worked with. He isn’t sure how Crowley has gotten such a nasty reputation in the industry.

Creating costumes for roles is always a time consuming process, the current production Aziraphale is working on however, is particularly laborious. The theatre production involves time travel, a large amount of it, which for Aziraphale means many many costumes. And since Crowley has landed the main role, that means therefore Aziraphale is spending quite a lot of time with Crowley. Aziraphale believes it’s been the most fulfilling part of his career so far.

Aziraphale is removed from his thoughts by a knock at the door. “Come in.” Aziraphale calls and smooths the lines out of his waistcoat. 

Crowley pops his head around the door, “Hello Aziraphale. I’m not too early am I? Normally the door isn’t closed.”

Aziraphale sputters. “Oh not at all. That’s my fault Mr Crowley. Do forgive me. I simply forgot to open it.”

Crowley steps into the room and gives a small smile before sighing and spreading himself on top of Aziraphale’s worn tartan sofa. “What have I told you? You can just call me Anthony.”

“Mr Crowley that would be quite unprofessional of me. I simply can’t imagine.” Aziraphale replies, much like always.

Crowley rolls his eyes fondly as usual and picks up on the books on the table in front of the sofa. “What are we doing today?” 

Aziraphale beams and gives a small wiggle in his seat before standing and going to the many clothes hanging in the corner. “Well I was told they are adding several more scenes, one during the French Revolution and one during Beatlemania. So I was told to craft a few more outfits. I have the majority of the work done. But I would like if you could try them on and I could pin and make some finishing touches.” 

Aziraphale starts pulling a couple outfits off the rack and hands them to Crowley who stands up and takes them, his hand brushing Aziraphale’s ever so slightly. Which of course makes Aziraphale feel like his chest is going to burst. 

Crowley holds the garments away from him and runs his hands along the details. “Oh Aziraphale they are exquisite like always. Absolutely marvelous.” 

Aziraphale blushes and looks at the ground. “Thank you, Mr Crowley.”

Crowley gently lays the garments across the couch and begins peeling off his layers of clothing.

“What ever are you doing?” Aziraphale asks a bit louder than he intended.

Crowley raises an eyebrow. “Changing?”

Aziraphale coughs softly. “You can use the changing room if you want.”

“I know. That is what I have been doing for weeks” Crowley responds confidently and laughs lightly at Aziraphale’s confused face and begins peeling off his shirt. “I think we are past that point now aren’t we? You had to fit me for that dreadful sequin thong a few days ago. There are no secrets between us anymore.” 

Aziraphale laughs and tries to not stare at the more and more skin being shown. Finally, Crowley stands in only his boxers. “What do you want me in first?” 

“Oh yes right. Um let’s start with the shirt and pants then finish with the jacket.”

Crowley nods and puts the pants on and then gently buttons up the shirt. “The beading on this shirt really is so lovely. You outdid yourself, Aziraphale.” 

“What can I say. I do love to bead.” Aziraphale says and watches as he finishes buttoning the shirt.

Once the shirt is fully buttoned Aziraphale steps forward. “Just the usual questions. Does anything feel off? Pull anywhere? Anything sharp?”

Crowley makes a face of concentration and moves his arms slightly and his torso then his legs. “I don’t believe so. Feels good.”

“Oh good.” Aziraphale says genuinely. He would hate for Crowley to be in an outfit that wasn’t his best. “I will just do a small bit of tailoring to adjust the fit ever so slightly.” 

Crowley nods so he steps forward and kneels at Crowley’s feet. He tries not to think too much into how this position looks and instead starts gently pulling at the fabric and marking spots with chalk marks.

“So why angel wings?”

Aziraphale looks up. “Pardon?”

“Why the angel wing ring. On your hand.”

“Oh. That. It’s a family ring. They are very religious. I was named after an angel.”

Crowley smiles. “It seems very fitting. Angel wings for an angel.”

“Mr Crowley!” Aziraphale gasps.

“What? Curls. Way too nice. Bit of a bastard. Seems like an angel to me.”

Aziraphale gives a small smile and continues marking the pants. “Sounds like you are talking about yourself if you ask me.” Aziraphale mumbles.

“Aziraphale!” Crowley gasps. “See! A bit of a bastard. Definitely an angel.” 

Aziraphale giggles softly. “So then what does that make you if I am an angel.”

“A demon. Well, that’s what the news is saying anyway.”

At that Aziraphale pauses and sets down the chalk and looks up at Crowley. “I don’t want to overstep. But, you know that isn’t true right? You really are quite nice. You’ve been terrible nice to me. Much nicer than many other people I have worked with frankly.”

Crowley smiles. “Well, I’m glad you think so, angel.”

“Mr Crowley!” Aziraphale gasps.

Crowley laughs. “Sorry I had to. Not to mention it just seems to fit doesn’t it, angel?”

Aziraphale doesn’t answer and just continues working on the pants and stops when he feels Crowley touch his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you or overstep boundaries. I won’t call you that again.”

“No! It’s fine. I- you may continue calling me that.” Aziraphale says gently and tries not to reveal how much he loves hearing Crowley call him angel.

“Oh good. Right.” Crowley says.

Silence falls in the room for several minutes and eventually Aziraphale starts adjusting the shirt. “Is that book on the table what you are currently reading?”

“Oh yes. I just bought that a few days ago. It’s rather old too.”

“Is it any good?” 

Aziraphale goes into a long rant of the book he bought and how difficult it was to convince the man he bought it from to let him have it. “It really is so beautiful. Signed even.”

Eventually he has Crowley put on the jacket and adjusts it accordingly. “Sounds like quite the book.” Crowley comments.

“Would you like to read it?” 

“You would let me?”

Aziraphale glances up briefly and is shocked to see how vulnerable Crowley looks. “Of course. If you want to.”

Crowley clears his throat. “Um yes. I would like that. I can’t promise I will finish it quickly but I will finish it within the next couple weeks.”

“You’ll have to let me know your thoughts.”

By the time Crowley leaves and Aziraphale starts adjusting the outfits he is hit with a thought that is shocking and yet not all the same. He doesn’t just lust over Crowley, he is falling in love with him. 

The thought nearly paralyzes Aziraphale. He knows it’s a horrible idea. Falling in love with a world famous actor with thousands of suitors. Aziraphale is nothing to him. Just the costume designer. Nobody important.

“Oh bugger.” Aziraphale says into the empty room. 

The next day Aziraphale finishes coloring his latest sketch of an outfit that Gabriel needs to approve.

He gathers his last few sketches and heads to Gabriel’s office that has a sign on the door that says he is on set. Aziraphale sighs and considers just waiting until tomorrow but Gabriel had said he wanted the designs approved specifically by the end of the day. 

Aziraphale clutches the papers to his chest and moves through the many winding corridors until he finds the theatre and glances around backstage only finding Michael. “Do you know where Gabriel is?”

Michael barely glances up from what they are working on. “He is sat in the mezzanine watching Mr Crowley and Mr Shadwell give a run through.”

“Ah yes, thank you.” Aziraphale says and heads to the main theatre doors. Opening them as softly as possible to not interrupt the actors.

Aziraphale shuts the door behind him silently and looks briefly for a moment and finds Gabriel sat watching the scene play out. Aziraphale glances up and for a moment and is so impressed that he forgets why he is there in the first place.

Crowley is in a pair of tight black jeans and dark blue v neck he made a few weeks ago running through a scene between him as a time traveller with Shadwell as his companion, Mark, where they have their first true fight.

Crowley stands a foot or so apart from Shadwell and takes off his characters iconic square sunglasses and throws them to the ground. “Mark. Surely you know by now how I feel for you.” He steps forward to reach a hand out to Shadwell that he moves away from.

“James, please don’t make this difficult. You know we can’t be together. We are simply too different. Think of what would happen if our bosses found out.”

“You know that isn’t true. You and I, we are meant to be.”

Shadwell starts crying. “Please, kiss me one last time.”

Crowley starts silently crying in such a heartbreaking way Aziraphale feels his chest tighten. He leans forward and very softly presses his lips to Shadwell’s. He pulls back and strokes Shadwell’s cheek one last time before the soft lights cut out and submerge the theatre in darkness. 

Aziraphale feels his heart breaking. Crowley is known as one of the best actors in the world right now for a reason that’s for sure.

The theatre lights come back on and Crowley and Shadwell head down to talk to Gabriel.

Aziraphale makes his way up to them, his fingers clutching the papers closely to his chest.

As soon as he gets near the group Crowley smiles and waves. “Aziraphale!”

Gabriel turns and frowns. “What are you doing here?” Gabriel asks tightly.

“Oh um yes, sorry to interrupt I just need these designs approved.”

Gabriel steps closer to Aziraphale, making him subtly back up until his legs touched the chair behind him. “And you thought it was appropriate to interrupt runthrough for that? I thought we discussed this, Aziraphale”

Aziraphale looks down at the ground. “Um you’re right. That was terribly unprofessional of me. I will be leaving now.”

Just as Aziraphale goes to leave he feels a hand on his arm. Crowley moves over to stand next to Aziraphale, a hand resting on his arm keeping him from leaving. He places himself just a bit in front of Aziraphale and looks Gabriel in the eyes. 

“I am so glad Aziraphale is here. He always does such amazing work. Frankly, the best costume designer I have ever worked with. I would hate for our runthrough to interrupt him showing you his designs. Frankly, something like that would annoy me so much I might just leave for the whole day if he isn’t properly accommodated. His designs tie this whole production together.”

Gabriel scoffs a little but Aziraphale can tell he is backing down. “Fine, show me your designs. Quickly.”

Aziraphale hands them to Gabriel, his hands shaking slightly. “Um these are the revised designs.”

Crowley slowly loosens his hold on Aziraphale’s arm but Aziraphale can tell he is looking at him from the corner of his eye. Gabriel flips through them quickly, barely glancing at them. Crowley can tell he is agitated. “They look acceptable. Just get them done. I want them completely finished by two weeks from now. You understand. Or I will bring it up with head office.”

Aziraphale swallows. “Uh yes, sir.”

“That’ll be all then.” Gabriel says in a clear dismissal. 

Gabriel roughly shoves the designs back at Aziraphale that he scrabbles to collect, one of the pages falling to the ground. Crowley bends down to pick it up and smoothes out the wrinkles before handing it back to Aziraphale.

“I look forward to seeing what you create.” Crowley says softly.

Aziraphale lets himself give a small smile back and gently takes the paper from his hand. “Thank you, Mr Crowley.”

Crowley doesn’t say anything back but Aziraphale can tell he watches him as he leaves. By the time Aziraphale returns back to his office the whole ordeal felt like an odd dream.

Several hours later while Aziraphale allows himself a small luxury and begins making a cup of cocoa he hears someone clear their throat and finds Crowley standing at the door. “Mr Crowley.”

“Hello, angel.”

Aziraphale blushes softly and doesn’t respond. He starts stirring in the cocoa powder. “Um about earlier.”

Crowley raises an eyebrow and weaves his way through the office to stand near Aziraphale. “Thank you, that was very kind of you.”

Crowley waves his hand vaguely. “No need to thank me. I mean it you know? I really do love your work.”

Aziraphale can’t stop the small smile that begins to take over his face.”You’re the one that makes them worthwhile. Your incredible acting. I meant to tell you earlier before well- all of that. The small bit I saw earlier was amazing.”

“Ngk, I’m okay.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “You have won two academy awards.”

Crowley picks at a small spot on the table. “That’s not that impressive.”

“You’ve been nominated 12 times.”

“A fluke.”

“Mr Crowley! Don’t be ridiculous.” 

“Well you’ve been nominated twice for an Oscar!”

Aziraphale gasps. “How did you find that out!”

Crowley laughs loudly at Aziraphale’s scandalized expression. “It’s not exactly a secret. I looked you up when I found out you were my designer. Very impressive. Your work is always incredible.”

“Not good enough to win.” Aziraphale grumbles settling into his chair with his mug, Crowley settling in his normal spot on the couch like usual. 

“Next time for sure.” Crowley says with a smirk. 

Somewhere between their first meeting and now this had become more common. Crowley just making himself comfortable in his office and talking or watching Aziraphale work. 

On one particularly memorable, unmemorable occasion, Crowley had watched Aziraphale sew for over five hours and then took a nap on his sofa. As though this was a normal everyday occurrence. For multi millionaire world famous actors to sleep on a lowly costume designers office sofa.

Aziraphale sips his cocoa for several minutes as Crowley flips through a few loose sketches on his table. 

Unfortunately, eventually Aziraphale’s cocoa runs out so he sets his mug in the sink and thinks that since Crowley is here they should at least do a little bit of work. “Would you be willing to try on a few things?”

“Sure, angel. What’s on the schedule today?”

“I just need you to try on a few pieces today if you could.” Aziraphale grabs a waistcoat, pants, and suit jacket off the rack and hands them off to Crowley.

Crowley grabs the pieces and steps into the changing room connected to his office and changes.

He gently puts the pieces on. Just when he is about to open the door he hears voices.   
“Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale winces and turns to find Gabriel in his office. “Uh yes, Gabriel?”

“I want to make something very clear. I don’t know why Crowley stood up for you but be careful. If I hear of anything untoward happening I will bring it to the higher ups.”

“Uh yes, of course.”

“Watch yourself, Aziraphale.” Gabriels says as a last warning and leaves.

Crowley removes his ear from the door and takes a moment to remove the rotten look from his face. Gabriel can really be such a prick sometimes. He reminds him of his talent agency director Beelzebub. 

Crowley swings the door open and steps out, giving a small twirl, knowing it always makes Aziraphale giggle. Which of course he does.

Aziraphale can’t help but laugh when Crowley emerges and gives a spin with a pointed scandalous smirk. “Tell me dear, Aziraphale. How hot do I look? Do I look like a positively scrumptious time traveller at a high end event?” He asks wiggling his eyebrows.

Aziraphale rolls his eyes fondly. “Of course, absolutely delectable.” Aziraphale says wishing he was lying more than he is. The suit does truly fit him amazingly. It shows off his long lean form and the deep black contrasts his hair well.

“Oh how sweet of you to say, angel.” Crowley says in a fake funny voice clutching his hands to his chest dramatically.

“Oh do get over here, dear boy. I need to actually check the fit at some point.”

Crowley nearly chokes at the casual dear boy and instantly complies. “Straighten your arm.” Aziraphale says softly which Crowley does. He runs his fingers gently over the length of fabric covering his arm and pulls the fabric gently to make sure it reaches his wrist.

“Mmm yes, I think this will do quite well. Everything feel okay?”

“Of course.”

“Oh good. Unless there is anything else you can change back.”

Crowley nods slightly and returns to the dressing room to carefully take everything off piece by piece. Aziraphale picks up a garment he needs to finish and starts on the buttons as Crowley enters and puts everything where it belongs, having watched Aziraphale long enough to understand his strange organization system. 

Just as Crowley makes himself comfortable on the sofa his phone rings which he grimaces at before answering. “Yes?”

Aziraphale secretly listens to the conversation while pretending to be immersed in his button work.

“What? No! Absolutely fucking not. No, I don’t care. I swear to whatever is listening, I would rather die than have that happen. No this is done.” Crowely finishes and hangs up the phone angrily looking tempted to throw it before settling to set it on the table face down.

“Everything all right?” Aziraphale asks hesitantly.

Crowley groans and stretches himself out further on the couch. “Fucking Beelzebub.” 

“I take that as a no?”

“She wants me to date some actor as a publicity stunt. Says it’ll be good for my image. Screw my image. I won’t do it. She says I am too boring. That I need to be seen with somebody to keep people interested in me. That my interest as an actor is reliant on my image as a bad boy or some bollocks but I haven’t done anything outrageous in too long so the press is antsy. Fucking vultures.”

“That’s horrible.” Aziraphale says sympathetically. 

Crowley doesn’t say anything, just looks at his hands for a bit. “Yeah.”

It’s silent in the room for many minutes, just the soft sound of Aziraphale sewing and Crowley rustling papers. “Mr Crowley.”

“Yes?” He asks, setting the papers down, giving Aziraphale his full attention.

“It’s rather late isn’t it.”

Crowley’s face falls. “Oh uh yes, of course. My bad.” He begins to stand up before Aziraphale interrupts him.

“No!” Aziraphale nearly shouts halting Crowley.

“I mean, you don’t need to go. I just meant, don’t you have anywhere to be? Big parties? A partner waiting for you?”

Crowley runs a hand through his hair. “Not really. I’m not big on the party scene. Too much drugs and meaningless sex. Dull stuff.”

“Oh. That sounds rather lonely.”

Crowley ignores his comment and instead smiles and leans forward in his chair. “What is an angel like you doing at this joint so late?”

“The same as you I suppose. Not much waiting for me at home.”

Crowley frowns. “Ziraphale. If you ever just want to talk. You can message me you know?”

Aziraphale focuses on finishing the button. Needs his hands busy. “How very kind of you, Mr Crowley. But I am quite fine, no need to worry about me.”

“I’m not. I just like talking to you.”

At that Aziraphale has to set down his needle. “Oh.” Is all he manages to say.

Crowley sighs. He heads to the messiest area of his office and steals a scrap of paper and pen and quickly scribbles his phone number and sets the small sheet of paper at Aziraphale’s elbow. “If you ever need anything or want to talk just message me.”

Crowley leaves quietly, Aziraphale not watching him leave, too busy looking at the digits scribbled on the paper. He pulls his phone out and lovingly enters the numbers into his phone and creates a new contact (one of the only contacts in his phone). He rereads the numbers multiple times to make sure he entered it correctly.

He taps the contact to write a new message then just stares at the open message for many minutes before sighing and deleting it. 

He must not get too casual. Mr Crowley is a client. Aziraphale can’t blur the professional line. Gabriel is watching them. Maybe even more closely now.

Crowley sits at home in his flat, watching mindless TV, his phone sitting on his thigh. He checks the phone every few minutes, growing more and more disappointed as the night carries on and he doesn’t receive a message. Maybe he went too fast for him.

The next time Crowley sees Aziraphale he tries to backtrack a bit.

He needs to not lose whatever semblance of a friendship he has created with Aziraphale by going too fast. He goes back to calling him Aziraphale. And tries not to pry into his private life as much. If Aziraphale wants to remain professional he can do that. Even if it hurts. Everytime he thinks Aziraphale might consider him a friend he fucks up.

A few days later in the evening Aziraphale sits in his office reading a book. He long since finished his work for the day and if he is being honest, he doesn’t feel like going home. He hadn’t talked with Crowley since that night. He had only interacted with him in passing. Aziraphale wanted to blame it on being busy but he knew that wasn’t quite true.

He was getting too involved. Falling too hard. This is all temporary and Aziraphale struggles to remember it and yet thinks about it too much as well. He hears someone shuffle into his office and looks up.

“Mr Crowley. Is there something you need? I didn’t have you scheduled for this evening?” Aziraphale asks, sitting up straighter and setting the book down on the table.

Crowley fidgets in the doorway and holds up a book. It’s a risky move and he knows it. But he can’t stand this coldness between them anymore. “I finished the book you gave me. Couldn’t put it down actually. I was wondering if maybe you would like to talk about it with me. Maybe get a drink? Discuss it with me? As friends of course” 

There is frankly little else Aziraphale would like more. Which is probably why Aziraphale knows it’s a bad idea. It would be so terribly unprofessional. “I would but I don’t think it would be proper of me.” Aziraphale says delicately.

“Gabriel?”

“Well yes, Gabriel and the rest of the directors for that matter.”

Crowley sighs. “Bugger them. I’m not asking you for a fuck.”

“Mr Crowley!”

“Come on. Just a drink between friends- colleagues?”

Everything in Aziraphale’s head is screaming it’s a bad idea, but Aziraphale has never been good at turning down a temptation. And to be fair he hasn’t been seeing Crowley as much lately. So it can be his reward. “Alright but we must be…discreet. Where to, Mr Crowley?”

“Call me Anthony tonight. Please?”

Aziraphale swallows. Crowley is going to be the death of him. “Mr Crowley.”

“Oh alright, angel.” Crowley says with a smile and hands back the book to Aziraphale. “Would you be willing to come to my place for drinks? Less chance of well, everything. The paparazzi have been pretty bad lately with the show starting practice now and all.” 

“Right. Uh yes, that’s fine.”

“Great.” Crowley says and leads Aziraphale to his Bentley that is parked behind the theatre. His famous Bentley. A signature mark of the actor.

There is a large market for photoshoots of Crowley and his Bentley. Usually consisting of the man posing over the car without a shirt and skinny jeans. Aziraphale definitely has a magazine featuring one such photoshoot in his office buried under a few stacks of fabrics.

“Beautiful isn’t she?” Crowley asks, running a hand down the length of the shiny black car.

Aziraphale nods and ever so carefully opens the very expensive car’s door. He gently climbs into the seat and pulls the seatbelt across him slowly.

Crowley slides into the car and starts the engine and watches Aziraphale. “Oh don’t worry, angel. You won’t break her. And if you do, I’ll just get it fixed. No need to look so tense. Get comfortable.” 

Crowley puts in a tape and the soft sounds of Queen begins playing. Crowley taps his fingers quietly to the beat as he weaves through traffic.

Aziraphale clutches his seat as they speed through a yellow light. “So ah, what did you think of the book?”

“It was so interesting.” He says turning to Aziraphale.

“The road!” He cries.

“What?” Crowley asks still not looking at it.

“Oh good lord you are going to kill us!”

Crowley finally looks back at the road nonchalantly. “I doubt that.”

Thankfully, a few minutes later Crowley pulls up to an expensive apartment complex and parks, taking the keys out and tossing them to a man standing on the sidewalk. “No scratches.” He warns a little threateningly which is only undercut by the fifty Aziraphale sees him hand the man.

Aziraphale trails behind Crowley as they move through the lavish looking entryway nodding at a man by the elevator who inserts a key and turns it causing the doors to open which they step into. Crowley presses the top button and stuffs his hands into his pocket.

“Oh yes, before you started complaining I was saying the book was quite interesting. The main character, wow. She’s a hot mess.” He says excitedly.

The door pings and opens directly into what Aziraphale would assume is his apartment if he didn’t already know from seeing a magazine spread about it that it is. “Welcome to my apartment. Make yourself comfortable. Bathroom is on the right. Kitchen straight back and my bedroom on the left.”

It looks nearly as unlived in as the magazine spread had made it look like. There were a few small differences. There was a giant white plush blanket on the end of the couch and a couple coasters scattered around the table and a remote sitting on a table. Besides that it looked like it came out of the factory like that.

Aziraphale can’t help but discreetly look at the awards tucked away in the corner of the room in an impressively large case that still struggles to hold all of them.

“I’ll grab us some drinks. You like wine? Whiskey?”

“Wine is fine.”

Crowley leaves Aziraphale alone for a moment to fetch drinks which allows Aziraphale a moment to compose himself and ignore how much it feels like a date. He returns a few minutes later with two glasses and a bottle of wine. He sits on one end of the sofa and hands a glass to Aziraphale and motions for him to sit.

He uncorks it quickly and pours them both a glass. “Anyway, as I was saying. She really is so interesting. And the ending!” 

Slowly they begin to discuss the book more and more excitedly, whether that is due to comfort or alcohol is unknown but they begin to sit closer and closer together until they legs are pressed together.

Azirahale finds himself opening up more and discussing how he almost became a rare books seller but found it was too expensive to start up so he mostly does it as a hobby. Crowley tells him about the first time he had to do a sex scene and how he couldn’t stop laughing so they eventually had to only film the back of his head during that scene.

At some point they had agreed on a second bottle and were laughing more and more. “That can’t possibly be true!”

“Oh, angel. Believe me, it is.” Crowley says deadly serious which makes them both start laughing again.

“She always seems so nice on the TV.”

“Well now you know the truth. Right witch that one is.”

Aziraphale giggles and takes another sip of wine before leaning forward to set it on the table, his hand covering Crowley’s knee. When he settles back into the sofa he realizes how close he truly is to Crowley. Their faces a few inches apart. Over the course of the night they seemed to just keep inching closer together. He curled his fingers just a bit over his knee.

“Angel?” Crowley breathes out softly.

“Crowley.” Aziraphale says back just as quietly and leans just a bit closer. He licks his lips and feels his body swaying forward.

“Ziraphale?”

“Anthony.” Is all he whispers before he presses his lips against Crowley’s. Crowley lays a hand gently at Aziraphale’s elbow his hand lightly pressing. Aziraphale brings his hand to rest on the top of Crowley’s shoulder.

They kiss softly and slowly for several moments, tasting wine from each other’s lips. They move as close together as they can, their kisses getting just a bit deeper. Aziraphale shifts a bit so he is facing Crowley better. Moans falling from Aziraphale’s mouth.

He pulls back and looks into Crowley’s eyes. He could just fall into those eyes if he let himself. He has the most stunning golden brown eyes. Aziraphale watches his chest rising and falling visibly. Crowley suddenly lurches forward and starts pressing warm soft kisses down Aziraphale’s throat, undoing his bowtie in the process. “This is a bad idea.” Aziraphale says into the quiet room.

“Definitely.” Crowley agrees and throws the bowtie onto the table triumphantly. He starts gently nibbling the side of his throat where it meets his shoulder.

“We shouldn’t.” Aziraphale says and puts his hands on Crowley’s hips pushing his body against his instead of away as he probably should. Aziraphale tightens his hand into the little flesh on his hips loving the feel of the bones beneath his hand.

“Absolutely cannot make it a habit.” Crowley murmurs biting the side of his throat deeper which causes Aziraphale to gasp.

“Maybe just once?” Aziraphale groans out, groping his ass, sliding his hand under his jeans to press at the skin there. Of course the bastard has silk boxers he thinks.

“Only once. Only tonight.” Crowley affirms and starts unbuttoning Aziraphale’s shirt.

Aziraphale begins undoing the button and fly on Crowley’s jeans, his hands brushing against his hard member. “Oh fuck, angel. That’s good.”

They slowly strip the clothes off of each other, Aziraphale struggling to not get self conscious. He knows he isn’t in the best shape compared to Crowley. However, quickly he finds he has no reason to be. Crowley’s eyes burn as they travel his body.

“Oh Aziraphale. I am going to fucking devour you.” He claims and covers his body with his own grinding his member against Aziraphale’s. 

Crowely rocks his hips purposefully, Aziraphale hands leaving indents on his sides. “Oh, Anthony.” Aziraphale moans which makes Crowley groan. Hearing Aziraphale say his name is one of the sweetest sounds he has ever heard.

“How far do you want to take this, angel?” He gasps out.

“I want you in me.” Aziraphale groans which causes Crowley to press his head against Aziraphale’s shoulder and close his eyes.

“Fuck. Okay. Come with me.” He says and drags Aziraphale to his bedroom, pushing him onto the bed. 

Aziraphale immediately settles and spreads his legs. Crowley opens the bedside drawer and grabs a bottle of lube. Slicking a finger and bringing it to Aziraphale’s entrance. He runs his finger over the rim gently to get Aziraphale used to it before wiggling it in carefully.

Aziraphale spreads his legs and wraps them around Crowley’s back, pulling him so close his member almost slips in. “Fuck! Careful, angel. Patient.” Crowley murmurs and adds another finger, preparing him quickly. Aziraphale rocks back into the fingers stretching him.

“Mr Crowley! Anthony! Hurry.” Aziraphale moans writhing against the sheets.

“Ready?” Crowley asks, his hair messed up. A positively sinful look in his eyes.

“Yes!” Aziraphale says and wiggles impatiently against the sheet only pausing when he feels the head of Crowley’s dick press against his entrance. He stills as he feels his thick member slip into him. Aziraphale’s mouth falls open silent.

“Okay?” Crowley asks breathily. 

“Yes.” Aziraphale answers and shifts down slightly making it go just a bit deeper in. “Fuck me.”

Crowley groans and obeys his wish. He snaps his hips out and then forward again. Aziraphale moans and moves his body with his movements. “God you’re so fucking hot.” Crowley groans and fucks Aziraphale so hard his whole body moves with every thrust rocking the bed.

Crowley finds his prostate and hits it over and over again, making Aziraphale slam his head onto the bed and just let the feelings overtake him. Aziraphale tightens his legs holding Crowley in place. “God, right there Anthony.”

Crowley hikes Aziraphale’s legs up even higher and pounds into him relentlessly. Both of them can feel their orgasm approaching. “Close, angel?” He asks, wrapping a hand around his cock stroking Aziraphale messily in time with his thrusts.

Shortly after Aziraphale cums, tightening around Crowley which causes him to come, pulsing inside Aziraphale, his thrusts moving lazily as he finds his release.

“Fuck.” Crowley says softly and collapses next to Aziraphale on the bed and cleans him up with some tissues from the box next to the bed. “Okay, angel?” Crowley asks looking over at Aziraphale who is still breathing pretty fast.

“Yes, quite well. You?” He asks, turning to face Crowley.

“Perfect, angel.” Crowley says and kisses Aziraphale, pulling him closer to curl himself around Aziraphale.

They tangle together in silence for a moment before Aziraphale interrupts it. “I really did have a nice time with you tonight. Besides well,” He gestures to them tangled together. “I enjoyed just getting to talk with you. Like always.” 

Crowley presses his face against Aziraphale to hide it but he can feel the smile gracing his lips anyway. After a bit Crowley quietly responds. “Me too, angel.” 

After a few minutes Crowley lazily reaches down towards the end of the bed and grabs a blanket and covers the both of them with it. “Could I tempt you to spend the night? Not safe to drive home anyway, had a bit of alcohol.”

“Temptation accomplished.” Aziraphale says smiling and wiggles further under the blanket.

Crowley rolls his eyes fondly but can’t resist pressing a soft kiss to Aziraphale’s lips. He knows they said they would only do it once, the one night, and never again. Crowley can tell already he can’t keep that promise. Then again he isn’t sure if he ever meant it.

Everything about them together isn’t a good idea. Crowley knows what dating an actor entails. Aziraphale’s life would never be the same. He would be hounded by media. Reporters stalking his home. The constant rumors. Aziraphale deserves better than that. Deserves to not worry how his every little move will be twisted by the media.

Aziraphale preens under Crowley’s attention. He isn’t even sure if the man is aware of what he is doing. Crowley seems unable to not be touching Aziraphale everywhere. His hands run consistently over his arms and back and neck. Stroking softly in a soothing motion. 

Aziraphale himself lets his hands wander to his face where he runs his thumb over his sharp cheekbone. Aziraphale is well and truly fucked. Now that he has had a taste of Crowley’s affections it’s like a drug. How is he expected to know that he could have it and resist.

If Gabriel were to ever find out. He most certainly would be fired. Not for that reason specifically, he would cite it as some other reason but he definitely would fire him. And he is petty. Gabriel would email any company he could to tell them not to hire Aziraphale.

Aziraphale let out a deep sigh and pushes the thoughts from his brain and closes his eyes. He pushes his face into Crowley’s chest and presses a soft kiss there. He figures there is plenty of time to consider every single way this can go horribly wrong some other time. Right now he just wants to focus on and remember the feeling of being curled around Crowley. “Aziraphale?”

Aziraphale opens an eye and peeks at Crowley. “Yes?”

He can feel Crowley hesitate. “I don’t- nothing.”

Aziraphale sighs. “I had a nice time tonight.”

“Me too.” Crowley agrees softly and turns out the lamp on the side table emerging them fully in darkness. Crowley ignores the painful ache in his stomach he feels at thinking this will all be over tomorrow.

“Goodnight, Anthony.”

“Goodnight, Angel.”

Morning arrives faster than either man would like. The warm sun filters through the window, casting a warm glow on the dark bed heating it up. Crowley takes a moment to stretch his limbs before lazily blinking his eyes open. He finds Aziraphale with his back to him, snoring softly into his pillow, the warm light making his hair look even lighter than it normally does.

Crowley can’t help but feel his heart swell. He truly has never met anyone like Aziraphale before. He’s so smart, talented, kind, and a bit of a bastard. Truly lovely. He has never connected with anyone the way he does with Aziraphale. He truly has just wiggled his way into his heart. 

Crowley had been excited to start his role at the theatre, but quickly he found it wasn’t the play itself, the script, or the other actors that made the job worthwhile. But the incredible costume designer with old books and sweet tea that somehow connects with him so easily. That isn’t afraid of his reputation as a cruel and evil person. 

Crowley smiles a bit dumbly and moves forward to wrap himself along Aziraphale’s back and presses a kiss to his shoulder. He is so screwed.

The next time Crowley awakes it is to his hair being stroked. Crowley takes a deep breath and opens his eyes to find Aziraphale fully dressed running his fingers through his hair carefully. “Good morning, my dear.” 

“Ngk. Morning.”

Aziraphale smiles softly at Crowley’s response. “Any big plans for the day?”

“Bold of you to assume I am leaving this bed.” Crowley grumbles out.

Aziraphale rolls his eyes fondly. “Oh aren’t you wiley. I just figured you would have some interview or something today.”

“No. I made sure I have at least one day off a week or I would lose it.” 

Aziraphale makes a sound of understanding. “I guess I should probably get back to my place eventually.”

Crowley doesn’t say anything, afraid to make things worse. He knows they agreed it was a one time thing but how could they just go on as though it didn’t happen.

“Please don’t make things worse.” Aziraphale says softly.

Crowley rubs his hands roughly over his face. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” 

“You know I don’t want to do this. But Gabriel…”

“Yeah, course.” Crowley says and picks at a spot on the bed sheet.

Aziraphale gently takes Crowley’s hand into his own and brings it to his lips to press a kiss to the back of it. “Monday after practice you could stop by and I could give you a new book?”

Crowley knows this is Aziraphale’s way of giving a peace offering. Of trying to show it wasn’t just a cheap one night stand. That there is something there. Just not able to be acted on. “Okay, angel.”

Aziraphale smiles softly and leans forward to press a soft lingering kiss to Crowley’s lips that Crowley wishes didn’t have to end. Aziraphale strokes his hand lovingly down Crowley’s arm before pulling away. “Monday?”

“Monday.” Crowley confirms as Aziraphale leaves, ignoring the lump in his throat.

**Author's Note:**

> I adore actor au's and then I had the galaxy brain idea of if Crowley is an actor Aziraphale would be the costume designer and then I ended up here so...
> 
> More to come in the series
> 
> Let me know your thoughts


End file.
